I used to wonder why I’d always get hurt, and why I was always believing people who were lying (I didn’t but…we project)
I would wonder why, if I could see it so clearly from outside, that I couldn’t see it when I was in it.
I didn’t see it because I was writing the end to my fairytale. The tragic parts of my life, I was writing a new ending for.
I took similar people, and did similar things, and each time I hoped that I would be enough. That I would finally be enough for one of them to choose me.
Gradually, I’d let my inner thoughts be loud enough to sabotage any relationship and it worked. Sidenote - I’ll only speak to my role in relationships as much as possible.
When I would go into these wilding brain states, I could pick anything apart. All I felt was the world against me and like everyone hated me. I still can’t believe how much I pushed away love. I never saw it then. I thought I was so soft, but on the outside, I was hard as stone. NO ONE got in. Here I am, thinking I am so open and so loving. Nope. Not even close.
I don’t know if this is science based or “true” but I believe we find partners that our wounds are attracted to. Like the moderately grumpy guy who only settles down for you. That’s my prosecco of choice.
I win. I finally win. He chooses me.
But then our wounds start showing up, and if you’re not conscious (meaning - aware), then you won’t see it.
In the summer of 2020, I finally started to really see it.
This is when everything started changing for me and I can see myself standing like a row of dominoes in my way, and it was only me.
We don’t know this stuff is happening. We don’t see it because it’s all we’ve ever known. Of course, we all see the shows on tv, and maybe hear about some different experiences, but our childhood is what we KNOW. What our bodies know.
Naturally, we want a better ending, so we keep recreating experiences trying to rewrite the story and find the happy ending.
In my case, I want the dad to want to be there.
I want the dad to play, laugh and hangout.
I want to watch my parents hold hands, laugh, and look each other in the eyes.
I wanted to feel safe.
So, now I choose men that are moderately grouchy, big men, who fall soft for me. But they also feel a little unsafe. It’s almost like (I’m being sarcastic here) I’m choosing to recreate the same internal feelings as what I’m most familiar with.
I am.
It wasn’t until I started doing yoga nidra that I even understood consciousness and how it could work to help me become the writer and not the actor (which is honest to God what I feel like I’ve been doing my whole life). I thought consciousness was me NOT knocking myself out. Not lying.
I knew that we had to become unattached (I almost got a tattoo for Aparigraha….that’s how ironic this mind can be), but I never understood how.
I knew to meditate and make myself separate from, but I wasn’t picking up what everyone was putting down. It was a difficult, forced experience.
I KNOW that I have heard all of the teachings before, and I know that these concepts aren’t new. I just never understood it until I saw it inside the practice of yoga nidra. Yoga nidra opened the portal of awareness so that I could finally understand awareness.
I never understood before that practice. I knew, but I never understood.
I was recreating what I thought my version of my childhood would look like. Of course, there were differences, but I think I always perceived things through those eyes. Some of these things I couldn’t see until I really got to understand myself. Some things I don’t think anyone will ever understand but me.
Only you, and only me, have our unique way of seeing the world. We are the only ones who truly have the key to what makes us tick at the subconscious level. No one else, not even your siblings experienced reality the way you did. The way that your entire conception was created from before birth. There is no one with an identical experience to you, not even your identical twin.
After I could see my story playing out before my eyes, me and my partner were able to heal some of the most hated parts of ourselves together. I don’t know if he knows this, but I couldn’t have done it without him. I don’t think either of us could have. I don’t think any of us can.
We need each other to heal ourselves. We need to recreate and rewrite the traumas of our life.
We need to see ourselves in them and not become them (I don’t really want to say that, but I can’t think of a better way to say it right now).
You can feel them, be in them, love them, embrace them, but know that it is not you, these are moments and experiences, not identities.
I don’t really know about this part yet. I’m still writing that chapter. I know that my life is becoming increasingly more rich and that I’m scared of it getting worse, but I can see why I’m scared so it makes it more fun to be here.
I don’t have control over it. Being scared and living in a low state of panic thinking that things will get worse is not changing anything other than my experience RIGHT NOW.
IF I changed my thoughts to say, “I'm safe”, I could enjoy this moment, or be in this moment, and know that this is the purpose of life.
We are so funny the way we complicate things
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